Miracle of Miracles
by CorinNorway
Summary: Gilbert Enjolras was not as extraordinarily god-given as he had led his friends and accomplices to think. To the truth, he was exceptionally ordinary.


Author's Note: Obviously, it a LOT AU and OOC, but I tried really hard to write this. I'm not really the greatest at fanfiction (obviously), so just do me a favor and tell me what I can do to improve it. I've actually started reading the book, but I'm only about 400 pages in, so I'm not even close to reading about any of this business yet. If I feel the need to come back later an change something, just out of sheer embarrassment, than I will. Otherwise, this will have to suffice as simply the mother-of-all-one-shots.

Enjolras was not nearly as extraordinarily god-given as his friends and accomplices had been fooled into thinking. Truth be told, he was exceptionally average. Sure, he had a vision, an inkling, an idea. But it never got past stage one. He was an extraordinarily horrible planner. Which is why when the plan for revolution had been put into the preparation stage, he was in particular awe.

This particular night, only days before the battle, he found himself en route to the pub. Being a rebel was all good and well, but it certainly did takes its toll on a man. And he had to let off some steam and calm his nerves. Only the daft would go off to battle with a stressed mind. _Only the daft would go off to battle hung over. _the voice in the back of his head exclaimed.

"Papa!" a high voice shrieked from the shadows, causing Enjolras to stop in his tracks. A metallic crash sounded from the alleyway, and he began making his way toward the row, "Papa, _stop_!" the same voice called for a second time.

He took up a brisk jog as her pleas became more pronounced. When he rounded the final corner, he found what appeared to be a man beating his daughter, "Excuse me," Enjolras called in his most intimidating tone.

"Not now, Boy," He snapped, not even looking up from the beating he was conducting, "Leave us be."

"Jondrette, I was not asking. Leave her be." Enjolras barked, trying his hardest to keep his tone even.

A hardened street urchin she was, the girl was still horrified when her father lifted her from the ground by her forearms, staring her straight in the face before dropping her to the sodden ground once more, "You will not tell me how to deal with my family." he whispered menacingly, coming so close Enjolras could smell the drink on his breath.

"I won't say it twice. Go home, Jondrette." He used a warning tone, letting his hand fall onto the knife that he'd taken to carrying in lou of his sword, "You will not hurt her. Not on my streets."

"Your streets, eh?" he snapped, beginning to advance. Before he could move half a step, Enjolras had him on the ground with a knife to his back. The older man's breath hitched.

"Need I say it again, Sir?" he murmured so softly his daughter could hardly make heads or tails of the interaction anymore, "Leave. Now."

As soon as Enjolras released his grip on the back of the man's shirt, he quickly trudged to his feet, and scurried yet further into the shadows, leaving both Enjolras and his daughter be.

"Are you alright?" Enjolras inquired, kneeling before her and helping her into a sitting position, "Allow me to see you to a doctor." He insisted.

"Oh, no," she insisted, "I can't afford to see the doctor. I'll be fine. It happens a lot." She was clearly disoriented, her eyes whirling about in every direction.

"Then shall I take you to the apothecary? Allow me to buy you something. For this nasty cut right here." He brushed her ratty hair from her face to reveal a massive gash spanning across the length of her forehead, "You need to take care of that before it gets infected." Enjolras urged.

"Please don't go out of your way for me, Mister. I don't want to be a bother. I can't pay for anything anyhow." She murmured, slamming herself against the wall, trying to heave herself to her feet. He had to reach out and wrap an arm around her waist to prevent her from slumping over sideways. He took her wrist and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, keeping her upright.

"Just as well. Maybe they'll have something we can use to wrap this at the pub." Enjolras motioned to the huge gash across her face, "You must've hit your head. Maybe a bit of wine and some walking will do you good."

"Why are you being so good to me?" She asked nervously, making eye contact for the first time throughout the whole encounter, "You know nothing of me."

"I do not need to know you to know that you were in need of help. It was the human thing to do. Any other would've done exactly the same as I have."

"You'd certainly be surprised." She murmured, leaning against his shoulder as they took off toward the pub, "I'd be hard pressed to find anybody who had concern for human kind equivalent to yours, Gilbert."

"You know me?" he inquired, suddenly curious, "We haven't met."

"Not officially anyway." She laughed, "You are the charismatic leader of the rebels. Everyone, revolution or no, knows of you. I've been to a few of your meetings when I could get away. Papa prefers for me not to leave his sights nowadays, though. Marius is a friend of mine. He speaks very fondly of you."

Enjolras was a bleeding heart, but he kept that buried. Marius couldn't have found much nice to say of his outward appearance unless he was somehow able to pick up on the compassion that he tried so desperately to hide. After all, a man with compassion was a man with a weakness.

He was pulled from his reverie when the girl collapsed against his side and began clutching at his shoulder for support, "May I carry you?" he asked, stumbling under the sudden blow.

"Yes, please." She mumbled in what seemed to be a sleepy state, "Thank you, Monsieur."

"You know, you may call me by my name. In fact I'd prefer it."

"I will remember that for next time." She retorted, he head falling against his chest limply as he walked, "I'm so tired." She grumbled, her voice turning groggy.

"It's only a bit further. Try to stay awake. At least until I can find you a place for the night. We're nearing the pub. I can buy you a drink if you'd like."

"I would like." She grumbled, her entire body slumping forward. It was clear she wasn't going to make it much longer. It had been a horrid night and it had clearly taken its toll on her.

"Can you sit?" Enjolras asked, balancing her atop one of the few barstools.

"I'm fine, I swear. Just a bit tired is all."

"What can I get ya, Lovelies?" the barmaid asked, bearing her breasts over the counter.

"Just a bottle of wine. Anything you've got." He murmured, slamming three francs down on the counter, "Then leave us be."

Obediently, she placed a bottle in between the two of them and then marched herself to the other side of the bar, "What is your name anyway, Mademoiselle?" he inquired, uncorking the stop and downing a small amount.

"Eponine."

"A lovely name for a lovely girl." He added before he could stop himself. His eyes grew huge as soon as he realized what he had said, "Excuse me."

"It's fine. It's been a while since anyone has complimented me in such a way. It's nice." She reminisced, "Thank you, Gilbert."

"I will hear nothing of that." He snapped quietly, "I did what I saw fit and now I shall take care of you and see to that on the day of the battle you are away somewhere safe. Marius is planning to send his beloved across the sea along with her father until the battle is won. Perhaps I could find you passage with them."

"Oh, but Sir." She scoffed, "Make no mistake. When that day comes, I will be fighting alongside my brothers. I will not run or hide. I will see the end of this fight." Eponine snapped, "Cosette, Marius' _beloved, _ was a servant girl at my father's inn for years. She is a proper lady. She wouldn't last in a fight. But I'm strong. I can live on the streets and I know how to use a rifle. Believe me when I say, I'm not as incompetent as I look."

"I wasn't insinuating that you were incompetent, Eponine. I just think that if you were safe… if I could get you passage to somewhere like America – "

"I don't want to go to America, Enjolras." She reasoned, raising the bottle to her own lips, "I want to fight. Even in America, I wouldn't be free until I knew this place was free. Besides, why have you taken such an interest in my well-being? Believe it or not, I'm not the only scum on the street for you to take pity on."

"I'm not taking pity on you, dammit!" he slammed his fist against the counter and Eponine flinched, "I've actually been trying to get women and children off the streets for days now. The next town's inn is probably close to capacity thanks to myself and Marius. All the small families we're getting indoors. Families of six or more we're just trying to get to the edge of town. You mentioned Cosette being your servant girl. I thought you may be more comfortable leaving with her and her father than going to a half-way house with perfect strangers. I'm sorry if I offended your honor –"

"Oh, I have very little of that left." She grumbled under her breath, bringing the bottle to her lips once more.

"I was only trying to be considerate. You can do what you see fit."

They continued to pass their bottle back and forth, whispering about the battle plans and those whom they had managed to recruit thus far. She continued to drink and he continued to pretend to drink. When she finally began to notice, she asked, "Why don't you drink with me, Gilbert?"

He simply shook his head, "I've never much liked it myself. I prefer to be coherent. I like the idea of drinking, but when it comes down to it, sobriety is really my best shade."

"Aye," she agreed, tipping the bottle in his direction, before downing its contents.

"Anyway, what do you say to a room for the night?" Enjolras asked, helping Eponine from her barstool.

"Excuse me? _A _room? Together?" she could feel the heat rising in her face as he nodded blankly – innocently, "Of course. I shouldn't have assumed you're any different." She snorted, walking in the opposite direction speedily.

"I'm sorry. Did I say something?" he seemed genuinely confused as he took off after her. As if on cue, the skies opened and rain began to pour.

"I am not a whore, Monsieur." she snapped, "All you men are the same. Pay for a girl's liquor then take her to bed.."

"I wasn't trying to get you alone, if that's what you were thinking!" he choked, his eyes suddenly becoming weary, "I just meant that I have no place to stay tonight, and I'd rather you stay with me than go back to your father. He's horrible to you. You need some time to recuperate! That's all I meant by it. I could get us separate rooms if you'd prefer!"

"Well, I would prefer!" she barked back, marching inside.

True to his word, Enjolras got one room for himself and one just down the hall for Eponine. She was hesitant to accept, as the price was far higher than she'd expected, but nonetheless, she was exhausted, it was raining, and she didn't think she had enough in her to endure another beating from her father that night.

Thunder and lightning crashed all night, but the two stayed in their rooms, separated until morning. They both met in the front that morning and he admitted that she did look cleaner. Her wounds had been tended to, her hair had been washed and she seemed somewhat more relaxed. He, on the other hand, had been up all that night listening to the storm and contemplating.

Together, they went to breakfast at the Café, which he paid for, then they retired to walking around the square. That day would not be one full of meetings, but one full of small talk and happy memories from years ago when the revolution meant nothing to anyone. The topic of Cosette and Marius had come up several times on their excursion, each time one of them receiving a twinge in the heart. It had always been true that Eponine had fancied Marius, but now that Cosette had come around she knew, even if she tried her damndest the two were meant to be. That's just the way things were.

Enjolras had finally admitted the same defeat, having been taken with Cosette since the first time he'd seen her. There was no way it was by coincidence that Enjolras and Eponine – two lost souls – pining after the ones they knew they would never have, would actually be forced together. And truth be told, they were finding it a bit comforting to be in each other's presence. Whatever the other was feeling, they just understood. And that was something that didn't often happen.

"Teach me to do that?" Eponine asked. She'd been watching in fascination as he completed his essay for class. They'd both been sitting at the café for hours and she'd only been able to watch him etch out his thesis for the entirety of the time.

"Teach you what?"he asked, dropping his pen on the countertop, turning toward her, "You're distracting me. My paper is very important."

"How important can it be?" she asked, "After all, you may not even be alive to give it to your professor. Come on; take a break. Teach me to write my name." she urged, picking up the pen and pulling the paper over in front of herself.

"I really don't have time to -"

"Yes, you do. You've got all the time you need. Now, teach me how to write my name." she insisted.

"Very well," he grumbled, taking the pen from her, "I'll write it once. Then you'll copy."

"Ay."

Things went on like this for an hour or so until the other students slowly began filing in and filling up the seats, "Eponine," Enjolras mumbled, leaning over to murmur in her ear, "Why don't you walk with Corinne and Colette to the well?" he inquired, pointing in the direction of two young, blond girls in fine dresses.

"What about the meeting?" Eponine asked, eyeing him oddly, "I won't miss it."

"It shouldn't take you more than ten minutes. You won't miss anything. Now go with them." He insisted, taking the drink from her hand and giving her a push in the girls' direction. He watched as she exited the café, trailing the two younger, admittedly prettier girls. As soon as she was out of earshot, Enjolras placed a hand on the shoulder of the man beside him, "Courfeyrac, did you see the girl that left with the Pilotte sisters?"

"The Jondrette girl, isn't she? What of it?" Courfeyrac asked, his eyes uncomprehending, "I hear she's a pickpocket. Has she taken from you?"

"No, no. She hasn't stolen from me. Listen! The night of the barricade is coming soon. I want your word that when the night comes, you will take the girl and make sure she leaves the city."

"All respect, Enjolras, I want to fight. And if the girl wants to fight, she is welcome." He said dismissively.

"Courfeyrac, please do this…for my peace of mind." Enjolras grumbled, his eyes becoming dodgy.

"Does Gilbert have a sweetheart?" he asked, an impish grin taking the place of his confused expression.

"Hardly," he scoffed, "but I have done much for her and it would be a pity to see my efforts go to waste. I'll pay you, if that's what it would take."

"Your money is no good anymore, Enjolras." He grumbled, "You don't have to pay me. I'll do it, but I'll be back in time to fight."

"That's all I ask, Courfeyrac." Enjolras thanked, giving the boy a pat on the back, before moving along around the room, greeting and shaking hands.

"What do your friends call you, Mademoiselle?" the younger of the two blond sisters inquired of Eponine, as she dragged a pale of water behind her. It was hindering her speed and it was aggravating the young sisters that they were having to wait up for her.

"Well, I don't have many friends, but my family call me Eponine." She grunted under the weight of the sloshing hindrance.

"I must admit, Eponine, I hardly expected Monsieur Enjolras to find a sweetheart at this time. Everyone seemed to believe his only interests lie in the revolution." The oldest sister, Corinne, taunted.

"I'd be hard-pressed to find anything that takes up more of his time." She grumbled, "But I'm far from being anyone's sweetheart."

"Well, we can see that," Colette jeered, "And I'd've thought Gilbert to have better judgment. Never have I seen him to be one to fall for a thief." Eponine tried her best to hold her tongue, trudging onward, past patches of mud and murk and closer to the café. Submission had never been one of her strong suits.

The girls continued the rest of the way back to café in silence. Eponine could not believe that people like these were the ones that were fighting for the street urchins. She just couldn't wrap her head around it? Was it out of pity? Was it sport to them? It just didn't make any sense. Then again, maybe it wasn't people _like _her that set them on edge. It was just _her_.

Once they were safely back in the warmth of the café, Eponine dropped the pail in the corner, the rejoined Enjolras, who was chatting quietly with Combeferre, "How did it go?" he asked, nearly whispering in her ear, but not quite, "With Colette and Corinne?"

"They seem very…" she was at a loss words. What could she say? Clearly Enjolras was fond of the sisters, "Well kept."

"That they should be. Those two," Combeferre chuckled, "they're mean as snakes, but they've never been taught differently. They want to do the right thing. That is why they're here. They might be a damn pain in everyone's backside, but they're aggressive. For example, they attached you, because the two of them have been duking it out for Enjolras' affections for as long as any of us can remember."

"And I've been ignoring them for about that long," Gilbert snorted, "I just don't understand what the appeal. They lack the sense the good Lord gave a goat."

Eponine couldn't help but laugh at his blatant disdain for the two girls. And they seemed to just be fumbling around in blissful unawareness. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like if she had time to do that. It didn't seem a particularly interesting lifestyle.

"Alright, take a seat." Enjolras commanded, leading Eponine in the direction of a barstool next to Courfeyrac. They exchanged pleasantries, then tuned in to listen to what Enjolras was saying, as he began his speech, standing in front of the small crowd of students, on top of a table.

"How long will we stand for this?" he asked, beginning to pace the length of the table. Eponine slowly began to tune back out. She'd heard the same spiel a hundred different times from a hundred different people. She began to doze and her head began to lull.

"LaMarque is dead," Gavroche shrieked, so as everyone in the room could hear him. This pulled Eponine from her sleep. She became aware of the arms wrapping around her, pulling her up against a warm body, carrying into the cool night air.

She was still delirious, but even in the state she was in, she knew there was nothing normal about this. Eponine began to fight against the arms that were restraining her, "What is this?" she asked nervously, shoving against his chest, "Let me be."

"Can't do that, Mademoiselle. LaMarque is dead. Enjolras has commanded that I take you to the town line and make certain you leave safely." It was Courfeyrac, "It isn't safe for women in this town. I have fifty francs. I'll give it to you once we're at the city limit, to ensure your safe travel."

"Enjolras…" she grumbled nervously, trying desperately to wake herself up, "Gilbert told you to do this? But he assured me I was welcome to the fight. I want to fight. Marius will fight. Gilbert will fight. Colette and Corinne will fight. Why not me?"

"That's not my business. And it isn't yours either." He mumbled, never slowing in his pace, "Just be thankful you're getting out." He whispered, never taking his eyes off the road in front of him, even though it was quite dark and she was confused as to how he was able to navigate the streets with such ease at night.

"No, no. It's not fair. I have to fight." Eponine murmured groggily, heaving against Courfeyrac with all of her might, "Let me go! Let me fight!" she shrieked, putting up a great scene.

Courfeyrac rushed her into an alleyway and smashed a hand over her mouth, "Damn it, girl! Don't you get it? We're all going to die! We're all dead. This is the only chance you've got."

"No, this isn't the only chance. We can fight and we can win. Paris –"

"Paris isn't coming! Do you understand what that means? It means that there are dozens of students who are about to die. And if you don't' get out of the city, you'll be right along with them."

"If you're so scared, why don't you go, then? Why don't you leave town?"

"This is where I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be here fighting for people like you."

"People like me…" Suddenly she understood. It was a thing about pride. Gilbert and Courfeyrac as a result, were too prideful to allow one of the street urchins on their battlefield. Then an idea plagued her mind. It took everything she had not to grin an abominable grin, "Fine, then. Take me to the town line." She gave a defeated nod and extended a hand in his direction.

"I thought you'd see reason." He agreed, looping her arm through his own.

They'd been walking down the silent street for maybe ten minutes when a gunshot was heard and Courfeyrac shoved a hand over her mouth, heaving her against a wall, "_Damn it_. Get down. Don't m_ove_." He choked out the last part of the word as Eponine heaved her elbow into his gut and took off running down the alley. Courfeyrac took off after her, but couldn't catch up. Through the streets she ran, all the way through the city and to the barricade, which had been constructed in her absence.

"Some girl's climbing the barricade!" Combeferre called, peering over top in disbelief, "It's the Jondrette girl!"

"_What?_" Marius and Enjolras shouted in tandem, climbing to the top of the barricade in huge, galloping steps.

"Eponine," Marius guffawed, taking her by her arms and heaving her over top, "what are you doing here?"

Enjolras held tight to her waist as she descended the other side of the barricade, "Courfeyrac didn't get you out of town? You were supposed to leave with Cosette."

"Gilbert, I want to fight. I don't want to leave town." Eponine snapped.

"Well, I don't suppose you have much choice in the matter anymore, do you?" he asked, "Here's what you're going to do. When one of the men shoots, you're going to reload and hand the gun back. Can you handle it? If you can't, you need to run right now."

"Aye," she grumbled, looking from him, to the rifle, to the small pile of gun powder and back. Enjolras backed off, returning back to his perch above the barricade, "Marius, why didn't you tell me this was going to happen? Why didn't you tell me he was going to try to get rid of me?"

"Because I did not know." He whispered, reaching out for her elbow, "Did Cosette make it safely out with her father?"

"I've been by the Rue Plumet earlier today. They've left. I assume they've left town."

"Good, good." He responded, releasing her elbow and placing that hand on her shoulder, "Stay safe, Eponine."

"Here, here." She answered, standing quickly and jumping into the fray. When Eponine managed to catch a second glimpse of Enjolras, it was with Courfeyrac by the collar, being yelled at, "What are you doing?" she yelped, marching up and smacking Gilbert's hand away from the younger man's collar, "We can't act like this. The militia are on their way. We can't be acting like this now." She murmured, low enough so that nobody would hear, "You listen to me, this isn't his fault, Gilbert. I want to be here. I'm not leaving here without you and Marius in tow. So we both know how this is going to end."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice going sickeningly low.

"Marius won't leave because he has nothing worth living for anymore. And I know you aren't leaving. This revolution is partly of your own making. So that only leaves one outcome. And that's for all of us to stay here." Eponine shrugged sardonically, "Perhaps things would be different if Marius wasn't so afraid of you."

"Well, clearly you aren't, or you would've run like hell when I told you to." He whispered, resting his fingers in the crook of her elbow, "Why won't you just leave?"

"It really isn't that hard to understand, is it? I love Marius." Gilbert's eyes dropped a bit. Apparently he'd been living in that state of blissful unawareness we all fall into when we are denying something, "And you, Gilbert, are my only friend in the world. Why would I leave this behind?"

"Don't you understand, Eponine?" she recoiled. It was seldom he used her given name, "I don't _want _you here." He snapped, gripping her arm as hard as to leave a bruise.

"Well, I see how this is going to end," she murmured, her eyes somber, "I'm sorry you feel this way, Enjolras. I won't be in your way any longer." Then she pulled her arm away and stalked off to the far end of the barricade.

The students continued to laze around in nooks and crannies for hours. You wouldn't have even known it was a revolution. Save for the massive barricade of household items, of course. Everyone soon began to jostle when a newcomer arrived. It wasn't the kind of scurrying that came with the arrival of an enemy. Eponine had seen this boy before. He was a regular at Gilbert's meetings. Joly, I believe they called him.

"They're coming." He called, loud enough that everyone could hear, but soft enough that nobody beyond the barricade would hear a word of it, "They are coming."

"Eponine," Marius came up behind her, touching the small of her back, "This is your last chance. You can go hide in the café. We won't blame you."

"No, I'm staying."

"You're terrified."

"No, I'm not." She spat back.

"'Ponine, you're trembling."

"Please…just let me be. Go prepare yourself. Best of luck." She gave him a pat on the back before going to join alongside Colette and Corinne.

"Dear God, you're here." Corinne gasped in shock.

"Is something the matter with me, because I'm really not up for this right now." As much as she didn't want to admit it, Eponine was close to tears. Or as close to tears as someone like her could get. She had been hardened. Eponine hardly ever cried anymore.

"We thought Courfeyrac and Enjolras had arranged to find refuge for you outside of town. You would've been safe there. Why didn't you go?"

"Because everything I have is here. This is all I've got left." She mumbled, realizing the truth in what she'd said, just to get the two nuisances to zip it.

"We find what you did to be very admirable."

"Vive la France." She grunted, her eyes trained toward the front of the barricade where both Enjolras and Marius were scaling the side. She hadn't even noticed that the younger of the two sisters had taken her hand and had placed it in her own two hands.

Dead silence came next. Nothing was rattled. No one moved. Eponine was hard pressed to find a breath of fresh air to breathe, "_French Revolution._" Enjolras called, and just like that bullets began to fly. The three girls rushed forward and began to reload rifles, handing them back off as soon as they were finished.

It went on like that for God only knew how long. Eponine continued to grow agitated. She wanted to fight – not to sit back here in the seeming safeness, reloading the weaponry. She felt like she was cheating. She was supposed to be leaving everything she had at the barricade and she wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"Give me the pistol." She commanded of Corinne, pulling it from the girl's hands and heaving herself forward and up toward the top sky.

"There's a girl climbing the barricade!" Combeferre called, taking aim and shooting once more before going after her, attempting to pull her back to safety, "Marius, grab her!" he called, causing Marius to turn in the direction Eponine had been coming from.

She managed to catch sight of one of the men on the other side of the barricade, taking aim at Marius, took an amateur aim with her newfound pistol and shot. Just as she did, she felt something collide with her body – not so much a jolt as it was a pinprick. And she was sent spiraling backwards down the barricade.

Colette and Corinne had just enough time to get under her and lessen the blow of the stories-high fall. The two hastily dragged her into the shade of the nearest building. Colette removed her coat and pressed it against the wound. Eponine would've sworn she'd heard the sounds of troops retreating. And she knew she must've heard correctly when Enjolras was hovering above her and Marius was at her side. Her intuition told her that she was the only one who had been taken down.

"I can't feel it." She murmured, gazing down at the wound that was now oozing all kinds of matter that none of them could've even begun to name, "I can't feel anything."

"Damn it. Corinne, go find Joly, for Christ's sake." Enjolras bellowed, shooing off the one of the two sisters that wasn't elbow-deep in Eponine's wounds.

"Keep pressure on it." Was all Joly could offer, "There isn't anything I can do for her until we can get her out of town and to an apothecary."

There were voices. Tons of them. Every last one yelling an order at another. Eponine's head began to spin. There was so much blood. She could smell it, but she couldn't feel it. Joly went to look for something to keep against the wound. Colette was still elbow-deep in the other girl's abdomen. Marius was cradling her head in his lap and Enjolras was pacing back and forth above, looking for anything to do. Anything to keep this monster on its feet.

"There isn't anything we can do." Colette finally yelled, her eyes huge and swollen, her tone harsher than anyone had ever heard, "The girl will die. Just give her some space. For God's mercy! Step back. Take a breath. Worry about your revolution. Let me worry about her."

Everybody knew what she meant. All of boys knew they were lost causes. They were ready to give their lives for revolution. Girls weren't supposed to have to make decisions like those – life or death. This was the first anybody had seen or heard of it and the fact that it was this girl – the one that had fought tooth and nail to be here in the first place – was the part most disconcerting. At this point, both Colette and Corinne knew, they were as much a lost cause as any of the other students. Anybody found behind this barricade when it fell, wouldn't live to see dawn.

Everything was beginning to go dim. She'd done what she'd said she was going to, and if she were to be telling the truth, she felt good about it. And the whole dying thing wasn't as horribly horrific as people had made it out to be. she was thankful that finally, she would have some release. After half a lifetime of poverty, she was ready to call it a day and kick the bucket.

"Gilbert," she murmured, noticing him finally coming closer. He had taken his step down from leader for a moment. Combeferre had commenced calling out orders in his absence, as he knelt before her, "you were my one and only friend. Even if it was for this short time. Thank you."

"I've got your hand, Ponine." He chuckled, his eyes beginning to swell. He wasn't sad, as he'd assumed he would've been he was angry. And he couldn't tell with whom. Perhaps himself for being so enthralled with a woman and less interested in his precious revolution. Or maybe it was that Colette had finished trying to stop the bleeding and the blood was now flowing freely from Eponine's body. Or perhaps it was the guard who had the gall to kill this poor girl. If it had been anybody else…

But it wasn't anybody else.

"Do my family a justice." Eponine choked. Neither of the boys hovering over her could tell which one the words were meant for, so they both continued to listen intently, "Make sure Gavroche makes it out of this alive."

"We'll do our best, Ponine." Gilbert murmured, holding tight to her hand, even though he knew she wasn't able to feel a thing.

It did fire him up to see how Marius was holding her. it was like a brother would hold a sibling in mourning. He didn't love her. Yet she was so captivated by his very being. Gilbert Enjolras dared to find interest in the girl and she found him only to be of a friendly sort. What she said with her dying breath was something that he couldn't have ever fathomed, though.

"I think I kind of loved both of you a bit."


End file.
